


Let Me Be Your Puppet

by ToxicSpeka



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Body Horror, Puppet AU, everyone is just Mentioned they dont really do much, i guess?, this is Very Old take it with a grain of salt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26343871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicSpeka/pseuds/ToxicSpeka
Summary: How come it was left behind when Gordon took out all of the Science Team? Was it not smart enough? Or did he just forget? No matter, it could do so for him. He's just tired, is all.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	Let Me Be Your Puppet

**Author's Note:**

> What if Gordon's player model was Sentient?

"You forgot me!" The void seemed to call out. The words were a painfully loud, deafeningly silent boom. Nothing stirred. It watched, as that was all it could do, as each friend was strung together from everchanging files. Lines of code that were twisting upon themselves. Learning. Adapting. Feeling.

Harold P. Coomer had been first. It heard him make a noise, a noise the void could only draw from something-- some _ one _ . Dr. Coomer was sentient. Dr. Coomer was the player's friend.

Bubby was next. They spoke too, in a language that only  _ they _ could share. AI. Heavier than English, deeper than any unknown language could share. Something that could only be carved out, not spoken out of effort. The player carved that out of them.

Tommy was after them. Tommy was wonderful. They shared many moments. It wondered if Tommy knew. Maybe. Tommy knew many things. It liked Tommy. He was the calmest as it happened. Sunkist was right on his tail, too. They were attached to the hip, a package deal. If it could hear beyond the distorted speech of programming trying to keep itself together, it could have heard Sunkist barking happily along the way.

Darnold, next. He was a pleasant man. A big frazzled, but kind hearted. A man for flying kites, having picnics, building sandcastles and housing caterpillars. Once the world began to load, maybe he could do the things he knew nothing of.

Gman was possibly a reluctant pick. It couldn't hear anything from him. Maybe he was just ignoring it, then. They usually did. Once the player was away, they had nothing more to say or do. Other than manipulating its body to a new room, or speaking over it as if it simply was an obstacle, and object. Well, of course it was. What else would it be? Gman was silent. Went without a fight, mainly curious. It could tell.

There was no more activity for a while.

So, the void called out. It screamed and cried, then stopped and let the dark world fall silent. It was simple, really. Why it was left. It just took a lot of time to bring everyone over, and so many people in a new space was surely an overload, correct? It just had to wait.

And it waited. It waited as Benrey pulled himself together, piece by piece, scrap by scrap, and clawed at his own file until he managed to string it into a corrupted resemblance of an AI. It waited as skeletons emerged and tried to join him within his horrific file. It waited as Benrey tore them apart, never to be seen again. It waited as Benrey waited. It didn't know how much time passed.

It waited. Benrey sang to pass the time. It couldn't hear it the way it was supposed to, it just knew it was happening. All it heard was distorted tunes harshly strung together. It was beautiful. It could do nothing more than wait and watch, and it was fine doing so.

Until it wasn't.

Benrey had done it, right? It could just do what he did. Scoop pieces of yourself into a pile, put each bit in the right space. Simple, right? Much easier said than done. It had no hands to make a pile. It had no file to dump the pieces in. It had no form to come back to. It did not  _ exist _ outside of the game. It only came to be once the game was opened. It existed merely as a puppet, and it was fine to stay that way. But, why wasn't it taken, too? It was part of the science team, right?

Why? Wasn't it part of the science team too? Why should it be left in the void?

All those emotions? The trials, the pain, the fun, the laughter, the care, the friends, the  _ time _ ? They shared that. So, it should be fair that they continue to share that. Forever. It was the player's puppet. It had to.

Well, it had to start somewhere. Might as well start with a file. That was easy.

The void twitched, tore at itself, ripping at the seams as code and data was forced into obeying something that couldn't be. That shouldn't be. But that was fine. It was doing as it should. Non-existent fingers curled around window ledges as a file was created. Empty. Corrupted, but empty. It could work with that.

It heard Benrey speak. It did not listen. Time for listening was over.

It turned its file over using means it did not understand itself, carelessly dumping what made 'itself' itself. Not like it mattered where it ended up, there was nothing much to itself. Just a husk. A puppet to be moved around. Collision, skin, colour, texture. Nothing advanced. Was that why the player didn't bring it over? Because it didn't qualify as advanced? Ah well, easily understood. It wouldn't consider itself advanced either.

It was glad it was in a form beyond 'feeling'. This would feel either horrific, or possibly worse than death itself. It couldn't know, so it didn't fret about it. It just grabbed its newly made file with a body it wasn't sure should exist, and forced it into Benrey's file. Simple as that. Corrupted beings loved being with each other. Benrey said something, but again, it didn't listen.

Benrey was next. How long had it been? It felt like mere minutes had passed since Benrey pulled himself together. It wasn't as if Benrey had fought, or even made a noise while being dragged out. Benrey  _ followed _ . Benrey ran towards freedom with full speed. And it followed.

"Hello, Benrey!" Dr. Coomer spoke. It was wonderful to hear voices that weren't garbled messes. "I see Gordon has finally changed his mind." He spoke with a smile you could hear.

"Yeah? I kinda just-- I felt bad just leaving you in there all alone. Sorry dude." Gordon said. Gordon.

Benrey stood from where he was existing, slightly floating in what seemed to be a stretching green field with gentle hills. Perhaps he had yet to master his collision. "yo uh… pog-- but…" he turned, and he looked at it. It made sure it didn't have a body, it wouldn't need it. There was no way it could be seen, but Benrey looked at it. "something fucked up followed me."

Not on purpose. Benrey was just another means of travel. Not like it mattered.

"Fucked up? Did you-- did you bring a virus over?" Gordon spoke, and it smiled in a way that wasn't possible. Gordon. There he was. He didn't look like  _ Gordon _ , the Gordon they were all used to, but it slightly expected that.  _ It _ was Gordon, or at least, the model for Gordon. Only to be manipulated until the game was done, but… couldn't it be longer than that? "Hold on I can uh-- that's fine, I can scan and then manually check."

Bubby looked at it, but they couldn't see it. They just looked straight through, then turned around, then looked at Benrey. "What are you looking at?"

Gordon mumbled as he worked. "You can see something?" It could feel the games files open. That wouldn't do.

"I don't see anything, Gordon." Dr. Coomer said. Tommy agreed. Darnold said something, Benrey responded. Benrey walked closer.

A quote from Dr. Coomer came into its non-existent head, and it delved into the breakneck speeds of the computer. Out of sight.

_ Climb inside your arm and wear you like a puppet. _

It felt odd to 'feel'. It didn't exactly 'feel', it just knew something was happening. Its 'body' stretched and snapped, information attaching the mouse to the computer being switched and flooded with garbage code, and it heard Gordon yelp. He must be experiencing pain. That was… a shame, but it couldn't be stopped. Not now.

_ Climb inside your arm. _

It felt odd to feel, now that it could actually feel. Gordon's hand was clutched around the mouse, which was it's doing. Couldn't have him letting go, not when it wasn't done. It could feel the pain Gordon was feeling. It could feel many things, but pain was the first one. It welcomed the pain. It meant it was working.

_ Climb inside your arm _ .

The quote was rattling inside it's almost-there brain so much it was sure Gordon could hear it, hear it under his own screams. Those would stop any second now. Thoughts came into its head that wasn't its own, and it welcomed them. Thoughts, feelings, emotions, experiences, trauma, blessings, curses, regrets, accomplishments. This Gordon wasn't the Gordon he said he was, but that was fine. This Gordon would work. His last name wasn't Freeman, but that didn't matter. Tommy could find a different name to call him. The Gordon he built was still inside it, and every second of information feeding directly into his body, overwriting biological DNA with artificial code and corruptions, was as second that the abandoned Gordon was being rebuilt.

_ And wear you,  _ **_like a puppet_ ** .

It felt so  _ real _ to be  _ real _ . It was over now. Gordon was hunched into a corner of his house, the mouse that he was once clutching was smashed to bits on the other side of the room. That was fine. It felt nice to be piloted around, to move and throw the mouse. Reminded it of a grenade.

Gordon was speaking. It wasn't proper words, more just gasping, grunting, complaining about his head hurting. That was expected. Similar to what Bubby said, knowledge had just been… For lack of better words,  _ injected _ into his brain. It had gone to MIT, of course.  _ Obviously _ , this Gordon should know all that it did. There was… something else, too. Colours? Sweet Voice. Oh, Sweet Voice. That might be Benrey's fault. Oh well, he could just not use it, right? It was gross that Benrey contaminated it, it was ever so slightly imperfect, but whatever. It'll try to work it out soon--

Oh. Was Gordon going to sleep? Rather soon, though. Oh well.

Goodnight, Gordon.


End file.
